


Avalon Salon

by FaeryQueen07



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Rimming, Snowballing, Suggestion of breathplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-31
Updated: 2010-05-31
Packaged: 2017-10-09 20:07:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/91085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeryQueen07/pseuds/FaeryQueen07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is an emo/goth hairstylist and Arthur has been his number one customer since the beginning. Merlin finally takes matters into his own hands after waiting for so long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avalon Salon

**Author's Note:**

> So it goes a little something like this: I was wandering along, minding my own business whilst reading Merlin fanfic and **_WHAM_**, I come across this author, cherrybina. I'm like, huh, pretty awesome shit here, so I flip through everything I can find and think maybe I should friend her. But first I have to see what she posts, because I'll be getting all her updates. So I check it out, decided she's pretty awesome and friend her. So then the other day, she [posts this](http://cherrybina.livejournal.com/116467.html) and I get all excited and show it to dracosoftie. Then I found her link to lamardeus's post about [Colin's pornographic mouth](http://lamardeuse.livejournal.com/772468.html) and nearly blacked out from sheer joy. And then...and then _this_ happened, because really, emo!hairdresser!Merlin had to be written. It's probably a bit longer (and slightly angstier) than what lamardeus had in mind, but it is what it is. Also, a world (and my second born) of thanks to dracosoftie for her continued patience with my poor self-editing skills. All inconsistencies are my own. Commas are my kryptonite.

It had been a shit week and an even shittier day and Arthur wanted nothing more than to sink into one of the deep seats of Avalon Salon and turn himself over to the ministrations of his hairdresser, – and, coincidentally, best friend – Merlin. Unfortunately, the way to oblivion was being blocked by the girl at the front desk. She stared Arthur down through a mass of curly, violent orange hair, green gaze cool. She snapped her gum twice before pointedly looking at the sign on the door behind Arthur.

"We're closed. Or can you not read?"

Arthur stared back at her, one golden brow arched high. He waited a beat before replying, and when he did, he deliberately kept his tone bland. "You must be new."

"And you must be illiterate. The sign clearly says we're closed. I suggest you leave before I have someone escort you out."

Arthur knew he could have simply explained the situation, told the girl who he was and that would be the end of it. But he was still on edge from his latest argument with his father and she was quickly turning into the straw that breaks the camel's back. When Arthur remained standing there, gaze challenging, the girl huffed and snatched up her phone.

"_Merlin_," the girl purred into the phone, and Arthur had the urge to strangle her with the twisted black cord, "some arsehole in a suit is standing in the entryway and he won't leave. Maybe you should send up Lance to—"

The whispered words cut off abruptly and Arthur let a smug smile curve his lips up as he watched her face go from pale to red in less time than it took for her to take a breath. It was a small, petty victory, but he held it close all the same. He imagined that she was getting an earful on etiquette regarding clients.

She hung up a moment later, eyes fixed on the ground, and waved a hand towards the chairs across from her. "He'll be right with you."

"Good."

Two minutes later, Merlin strolled into the room, all lean, slender limbs and dark hair falling over his eyes. He seemed amused at the whole situation, which only irritated Arthur further, and Arthur's jaw clenched. Merlin's kohl-lined blue eyes studied Arthur's tense posture and after a silent minute of worrying the ring in his bottom lip, Merlin murmured softly, "That bad of a week, eh? Anne? Why don't you head on home. Everyone else is gone already, so I'll lock up after I'm done with Arthur."

Anne didn't hesitate, but grabbed her purse from where it was hidden beneath the desk and slipped past them to the door. A final gun-shot crack of her gum was her only farewell and then they were alone, the silence rising up to suffocate Arthur. Merlin crossed the room to lock the door, then settled a hand on Arthur's shoulder.

"We'll start with a shampoo and deep condition. Do you want a trim, too? You're almost due."

Arthur shrugged, too stressed to deal with making any inconsequential decisions. It burned him that even at thirty, Uther Pendragon still had the ability to reduce him to this. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to lose himself to the magic that was Merlin's fingers, and if that meant coming out of the salon with neon green hair or a Mohawk, he really didn't care. Merlin, as always, seemed to know just what Arthur needed.

"Come on then."

Merlin tugged him to his feet and then spun on his heel, leading Arthur across the floor and past the booths to the back. Arthur trailed after him, almost entranced by the gentle sway of Merlin's hips in the skin tight trousers he had favored since before they'd met. They were unique, Arthur was willing to grant him that, with one leg all black, the other red plaid and both covered in far more zippers than could possibly be functional.

Merlin patted one of the leather chairs and dug a small remote out of the side pocket. Arthur sank down with a blissful sigh, the heat of chair rising up through the leather and the pulsing massager hitting him at the tensest point in his back.

"You," he murmured, eyes drifting close, "are a first-class magician."

"Wait until you see my next trick. Instead of swaddling you in one of my 'horridly tasteless' capes, as you're so fond of calling them, I shall wash your hair without."

"You'll get my shirt all wet."

"I'll buy you a new one if I do," Merlin promised, using one black polished hand to push Arthur back.

"This is Brioni, I'll have you know. I doubt you could afford to replace it."

Merlin smiled down at Arthur fondly as he turned on the water, letting it run until it was hot enough. "Fine, I'll have my _boyfriend_ replace it."

Before Arthur could think of a reply to that, Merlin had turned on the spray and was sliding his fingers through Arthur's hair. The sensation was pure bliss. Each drag of Merlin's blunt nails over his scalp sent a wave of pleasure through Arthur that chased away the tension. He almost groaned aloud and was just settling into it, basking in the heat of the water and the fingers massaging his head when he remembered that he wasn't wearing the cape. The horrendous cape that had always been there to cover the rather inappropriate response Arthur had to being in such close proximity to Merlin.

"Relax," Merlin chided from somewhere above him, and Arthur fought the urge to shift.

"Right."

By the time Merlin began working in the conditioner, fingers slipping and sliding through Arthur's hair to cup the back of his head, the slender digits relieving some of the tension that had built up there, Arthur had melted into the chair completely. He was still achingly hard inside his £700 trousers, but he was too far gone to care. He lost himself so completely to Merlin's skill that he failed to notice when the water turned off and the hands disappeared until he was dragged upwards. He stumbled as he stood, grimacing at the feel of his cock hard and trapped, but Merlin didn't seem to notice his discomfort as he ushered him back to the front room.

Arthur collapsed into the chair, desperate to relieve the steadily growing pressure, but horrified at the thought of Merlin seeing and knowing. Of shocking his closest friend and ruining the only good thing left in his life, the one thing Uther could not control. He braced himself, knowing the exact moment Merlin looked down and took in his state.

"Oh. Um."

"I just—"

Merlin stared at him, eyes wide yet serious, searching for something Arthur couldn't understand. Then, with a softly muttered oath, Merlin leaned in and pressed his lips to Arthur's.

As far as first kisses went, it was pretty unspectacular. Their teeth clacked together, their noses bumped and Arthur felt awkward and too big for his skin. But the second kiss, the one Arthur met him halfway for, was above and beyond anything else he had ever experienced. It was wet and hot and the slide of Merlin's tongue over his seemed to break the fever that had taken hold in the back room.

Arthur's hands came up, firm and possessive as he stroked up Merlin's arms to his shoulders, then down to his back. He pulled Merlin in, tugged on him until was straddling Arthur's lap in the chair, awkward as it was, and pressed them together as tightly as possible. He devoured Merlin's mouth with lips and teeth and tongue, sucked the full bottom lip into his mouth and flicked the silver ring gently, adjusting to the feel of it against his own mouth. He never wanted it to end and at the same time needed to pull back to catch his breath. He broke the kiss regretfully, eyes locked on Merlin's mouth.

He started when Merlin began plucking at the buttons of his shirt, popping them off with alarming dexterity. He could hear the soft _plink plink_ as they hit the hardwood floor and opened his mouth to issue a reproachful comment on the treatment of his clothing, but then suddenly Merlin's hands were on his bare chest, nimble fingers now plucking at his nipples. Arthur gasped and his head tipped back when Merlin leant down and licked a broad path from one nipple to the other.

"Fuck. Merlin..."

Merlin chuckled and the sound, so dark and promising, had Arthur twitching response. His cock jumped when Merlin's hand closed around it and Arthur spared a moment to wonder when his trousers had come undone. But then Merlin was sliding down off his lap, settling onto the ground as he eased Arthur's trousers down to his ankles. There was a long moment of silence broken only by their panting breath before Merlin looked up at Arthur with something akin to surprised respect in his eyes.

"You aren't wearing any pants."

"I—" But it was to be a night of incomplete thoughts and sentences, because before Arthur could say, _'I never wear pants when I come here because they're just another unwanted layer separating us...'_ he found himself gasping and moaning, his hands fisting in Merlin's hair as Arthur was enveloped in the wet heat of Merlin's mouth.

And oh _god_ did Merlin know how to suck cock. There was not much that Arthur would happily say he was not the best at, but he had no problem admitting Merlin's superiority in this. He welcomed it, praised it and encouraged it verbally and physically, barely refraining from thrusting up, from thrusting deep into Merlin's throat. Arthur whined as Merlin took him deeper, his hand slowly stroking over Arthur's length, slipping his own fingers into his mouth alongside Arthur's cock.

The world narrowed down to the smooth slide of Merlin's tongue over his cock, the press of it against the vein. Arthur could feel Merlin's fingers sliding over the head, one blunt nail briefly pressing into the slit before moving on to slide under his foreskin. It pinched in a way that had him thrusting up against his will, searching for more even as he dragged Merlin closer. He let go of Merlin's hair almost as soon as he realized what he was doing, then gave a shout when he was swallowed down to the root.

"Oh, fuck, oh god, _Merlin_!"

The hand that had been stroking him slipped away, spit-wet fingers brushing back over his balls, pressing against a spot that had Arthur seeing stars. He thought they would stop there, expected them to, but Merlin continued on until they were brushing over Arthur's entrance. He couldn't form a single coherent thought when the first one breeched him, but the burn cleared away some of the fog.

Merlin withdrew, but only long enough to pull off Arthur's cock with an obscene pop and suck on his fingers, wetting them even more, and then he was back, lips and tongue threatening to undo the last of Arthur's composure while two fingers worked themselves inside him. It hurt and yet it felt good, so when Merlin used his free hand to tap on Arthur's hip, Arthur didn't hesitate to shift forward in his seat, allowing Merlin more room to maneuver.

It took little more than the first stroke of Merlin's fingers over his prostate to have Arthur coming so hard he was certain he would black out. Merlin barely gave him a chance to catch his breath, though. When he stood, he yanked Arthur up by his £150 silk tie and kissed him hard on the mouth, pushing the remnants of Arthur's release into his mouth. It should have been disgusting, but Arthur only craved more, wanted to pull Merlin in until their flesh merged and there was no telling where one ended and the other began.

"Gonna fuck you," Merlin muttered into his mouth and yes, _that_ gave Arthur pause, but then he was back, licking his way into Merlin's mouth while his cock tried to make a valiant recovery.

"Yeah, yeah, just—"

Merlin wanted none of his words. With a deft spin of his hands, he had Arthur turned around, his hand pressing him face first into the seat. Arthur brought up his arms in time to keep his face from being smashed into the back, and he had enough sanity left to be embarrassed that he was arse up and bare in the middle of a fucking _salon_, but then even that thought fled because Merlin's mouth was on him again, on his arse with his tongue _pushing into Arthur_.

Arthur moaned long and low and needy as Merlin worked him open with his tongue. He was still loosened from the brief introduction of Merlin's fingers, and Merlin used that to his advantage, pushing his tongue in as far as it would go before sliding in the first digit. He gave Arthur only the barest amount of time to adjust before he pushed in two more, twisting and scissoring them. His mouth continued to work, the sounds loud and wet and almost shockingly lewd.

"Fuck—god—Arthur—"

Merlin pulled back too soon and stood, yanking Arthur up with him. Two steps and they were at the booth's counter, facing the mirror so that Arthur could see just how wrecked he was. It was disturbing to face that image of himself and he turned away, eyes closing as he gripped the granite surface.

Over the roar of his blood in his veins, the pounding of his heart in his ears, Arthur could hear a faint snapping sound and then a half-empty bottle of lube appeared next to his head. All wonder about where the rest of the contents had gone to was cleared up when he felt Merlin's fingers slicking him open. Then it was something thicker, hotter, heavier, pressing into Arthur, splitting him two. It hurt, hurt more than he would have guessed, what with everything else Merlin had done first, but it was a good ache, the kind that centered and grounded and made surreal moments fact instead of fiction.

Arthur grunted out a breath when Merlin bottomed out, feeling full to the point of discomfort. He had never in his wildest dreams imagined being taken like this, being spread out before someone, all control out of his hands. That it was Merlin who had reduced him to this state was the only thing that made it acceptable.

Merlin gave him a moment to adjust and when Arthur no longer felt like he was about to come apart at the seams, he gave an experimental squeeze with his arse, tightening around Merlin's cock. There was a sharp gasp behind him that led to Merlin grabbing at his shirt, wrenching it off so hard Arthur could hear it tear. He didn't mourn the loss, though, because then Merlin was leaning over him, pressing in deeper even as he stretched himself over Arthur's back until they were flush together.

"Been dying to touch you," Merlin whispered in his ear as he gave the first tentative thrust.

When Arthur pushed back into it, Merlin chuckled and began to truly move. He dropped a kiss to one faintly freckled shoulder, then to the other. He drew his tongue over the knobs of Arthur's spine and blew into the damp hairs that curled slightly at the base of Arthur's neck, reveling in the slight shiver the act elicited. His arms curled around Arthur, his hands smoothing over the broad chest until his fingers were grazing the pebbled nipples.

"You look so fucking good like this, Arthur. God, you have to watch, watch what I do to you, how you look when I do it. Look up. Tell me what you see."

As he spoke, Merlin pulled away enough to slide his hands back to Arthur's hips, gripping him tightly there. He watched Arthur's reflection as he struggled to obey the command. The shifting of the muscles in Arthur's back drew Merlin's attention and he brought one hand up to trace over them, memorizing their movement. With the other, Merlin reached up to toy with the tie still wrapped about Arthur's neck, pausing to study the contrast of his pale hand against Arthur's tanned flesh.

Arthur glanced up into the mirror and was stunned into stillness by the sight that greeted him, because there was Merlin – _his_ Merlin – with his hair in wild disarray and from where Arthur's fingers had been tugging at it earlier, his pupils blown wide and the black eyeliner just faintly smudged. And his lips...his lips were swollen and red and spitting out the most obscenely delicious words and Merlin was just so—so...

"Beautiful," Arthur murmured, awed by how true those words were, how sincerely he meant them.

Merlin smiled, slow and fond with just a hint of amusement. "Yeah, yeah you are."

"No, you. _You're_ beautiful." And Arthur meant it more than anything else he had ever said before.

Merlin froze, stunned by the words and the sincerity in Arthur's voice. Then he was moving once more, pounding furiously into Arthur as his fingers dug bruises into Arthur's golden skin. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth, the silver ring gleaming in the light. Arthur gasped and let his head drop so he could rest his cheek against the cool surface of the counter and braced his arms against the back to keep from being driven into the mirror by Merlin's thrusts.

It was too much too soon too suddenly and Arthur felt raw, fucked open and laid bare, not just physically but emotionally as well. Every secret yearning he had ever had for Merlin, held close in the sanctuary of his heart, and every dark desire he had ever let play out in his mind while hidden away in the darkness of his bedroom, none of them came even close to the reality. Every particle of his being was tuned into the steady drag of Merlin's cock over his prostate, the erratic beating of his heart matching the rhythm of Merlin's movements and Arthur knew he was going to come apart right there.

"Merlin!" Arthur was too desperate to care that he was practically sobbing. He needed more, needed everything Merlin could him.

"Every. Fucking. Week. Arthur." Merlin punctuated each word with a hard thrust, his expression bordering on tortured as he pushed deeper and deeper into Arthur's body. "I've been waiting for you to make a move, to give me some sign that you wanted me. I waited through that bitch Sophia and that airhead, Vivian. I—"

"God, Merlin. Why didn't you just _say_ something?"

Merlin released his hold on Arthur's hips, bracing his hands on the counter on either side of his head, and slowed his thrusts to the subtlest roll of his hips.

"Because I'm an idiot and you're a prat. It's a tale as old as time. I will always be an idiot where you're concerned and you will always be—"

"Yours," Arthur choked out. "Always yours. Then, now, always." He stared up at Merlin in the mirror, cerulean gaze full of promise and hope.

"Yes, mine."

And Merlin made Arthur his, pounded his name into Arthur's soul with every thrust of his hips, imprinted himself on Arthur's flesh with his nails, drawing faint red lines of blood over the otherwise unmarred skin, pressing bruising kisses wherever he could reach. He nipped with his teeth, then soothed with his tongue and just when Arthur was certain he had had his fill, Merlin began all over again.

Pushing back with his arms, Arthur leveled himself off the countertop so he was almost standing upright and watched as his tie shook and swayed. Merlin caught the direction of his gaze and reached out with one hand to grasp the silky material, fisting it until it was pulled tight, then used it to tip Arthur's head back onto his shoulder.

"I'm done waiting for you and you had your chance to say no. I don't play for fun, Arthur. No more Vivians or Sophias. No more all-nighters at the office or weekends trapped in your study at home. No more forgetting to eat or skipping out on vacations. No more bending over backwards to please a man who is too busy wallowing in his own misery to notice the fine man you've become."

"Yes, anything. Anything, Merlin, just don't—" He had to fight to swallow past where the tie was digging into his throat. "Just don't leave me again."

"Now who's the idiot? I've been right here the whole time." And then Merlin kissed him, cutting off any protest about who had been where and taming him with a gentle kiss as he released the tie.

The moment was broken, however, when Arthur pushed back again, reminding Merlin that he was still balls deep inside Arthur and _not doing a damn thing about it_. When Merlin dropped his hand down to Arthur's cock once more, it was to find him hard. He meant to draw it out, to make the moment last just a little bit longer, but as his fingers closed around Arthur something inside him snapped.

Merlin timed his strokes to the thrusts of his hips, stripping Arthur's cock almost harshly. All the while, he whispered filthy promises about all the things Arthur would be able to do to him later, of all the things they could do together now. Merlin kept one arm banded across Arthur's chest, fingers gripping his shoulder so tightly his nails left little half-moon imprints, offering the support Arthur would never ask for.

"Next time, next time you can be inside me, yeah? I'll open myself up for you, use my fingers to stretch myself out and then I'll ride you while you lie on the couch."

"You have a couch here?" Arthur asked inanely.

One corner of Merlin's mouth curved up. "No, but my rich boyfriend might buy one if I ask."

The words made Arthur go still, brought back their earlier conversation.

"Now who's being an idiot?" Merlin whispered affectionately. "I suppose I should have said, my _soon-to-be_ rich boyfriend." He nipped at the lobe of Arthur's ear, drawing out another broken groan. "You'd buy me, one right?"

"Anything, Merlin. I already told you."

"Yeah, yeah you did. Anything. All I want is you, though."

"You have me. I promise."

It was Merlin's turn to groan, and his hips jerked twice before he shoved Arthur flat once more. Merlin thrust hard and fast, burying himself in deep only to pull back, reaching for his release even as it welled up inside him. He couldn't recall having let go of Arthur's cock, but he must have because that hand was steadying him on the counter.

"Touch yourself," Merlin begged. "Wanna see you. God, wanna _hear_ you do it. Want you to come before me, feel you like this—"

His words did the trick, and with a shout, Arthur came again, his come shooting out to splash over the front of the booth and onto his tie. That was all it took to pull Merlin over the edge and with a hoarse cry he came, hips stuttering with the force of his release. He collapsed forward against Arthur, then slumped to the ground, taking Arthur with him. They landed in a tangle of limbs, the cool, hardwood floor welcome against their overly warm bodies.

"How long?" Merlin asked once his heart had stopped racing.

"Since I offered you the job. But then you were working for me and it would have been unethical of me to suggest anything."

"And the last year?"

"You weren't as terrible of a receptionist as my father claimed and I knew you were trying to save for the salon. I felt responsible for my father trying to fire you."

"You managed to save Gwen from being fired as well."

"Mmm. It was the least I could do. And after that..." Arthur shrugged.

Merlin angled a look at him. "It didn't have anything to do with a substantial portion of my salon being paid off, did it?"

"You knew?" Arthur laughed and shook his head. "No, by then I think you were seeing Will and I was seeing Sophia, and that seemed to set in motion months of inconvenient timing."

"And now?"

Arthur sat up, wincing at the ache in his back and arse. His trousers were tangled around his feet and decided it would be easier to sort them out if he took them off. He stripped quickly, pausing when noticed Merlin watching him expectantly.

"Now," Arthur said, standing in the middle of Merlin's salon in nothing but charcoal stockings and a ruined silk tie. "Now I'm here to stay." Arthur's expression was soft and warm and even though it hurt to crouch down, he did it anyway. He pressed a kiss to Merlin's lips, pulling back slightly to study the pink, full mouth. "That day we met, and Morgana choked on her drink at lunch, scaring everyone?" At Merlin's nod he continued. "I may have said something about your mouth being _completely_ pornographic. She choked before I could detail all the things I imagined your mouth was capable of."

Merlin laughed, face flushed and mouth open, his Adam's apple bobbing. "And how did it meet up to your standards?"

Rather than answer in words, Arthur simply kissed him again, then straightened up with a grimace. "Next time, though, I think a bed is in order. I'm too old for shit like this."

They dressed slowly, and after Merlin locked up the shop, they headed down the block to Arthur's car, shoulders bumping every few steps. In the twilight of the evening, as they drove through deserted streets to Arthur's high rise flat, the weight of his unsatisfactory week melted away, leaving Arthur feeling relaxed and at ease. It was, he thought, the start of something wonderful.


End file.
